


Paris

by LegitimateTrash



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Cancer, Dizziness, Gen, background Nadia/Guzman, everyone loves ander, hurt ander, sick! ander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:27:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23214754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegitimateTrash/pseuds/LegitimateTrash
Summary: Having cancer sucks but it’s a little bit easier when your family has your back._Ander is suffering and his friends try their best to help him.
Relationships: Ander Muñoz/Omar Shana
Comments: 39
Kudos: 257





	1. Carla

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a series of one shots of all of Ander’s friends supporting him. In this story everyone is friends with each other (no Polo haters) and they all know about Ander’s cancer diagnosis. 
> 
> Also the title is the song Paris by Zazo & Gxurmet, which is the song that was playing the first time Ander was introduced.

Textbooks slam closed and students scramble to hand in their work as calculus class comes to a close. Carla and Ander walk out together. Carla is talking about macaroni for some reason and Ander doesn’t really understand it, but he figures there’s more to the story than she’s letting on so he just lets her talk.

They make it past a few classrooms when Ander suddenly stops and leans against the row of lockers closest to him.

“Ander?” Carla asks, glancing back at him.

His eyes are tightly shut and he doesn’t look up.

“Sorry,” He mumbles. “Just give me a second.”  
Some of the colour drains from his face and he brings a hand up to rub his temples.

Carla comes closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. Her voice is filled with concern,“What’s wrong?”

“Dizzy, but-” Ander swallows thickly, “It’ll pass. Don’t worry.”

The bell rings signaling the start of their next class but Carla just stands in front of Ander, trying her best to shield him from the eyes of onlookers even though he’s much taller than her.

Finally, after everyone has already gone to class and Ander and Carla are the only two left in the hallway, he opens his eyes.

He scrubs his face trying to shake off the last of the dizziness. 

“Fuck.”

“Ander we don’t have to go to class. If you feel sick I can get Guzmán to drive you home.”

He waves his hand, brushing off the suggestion. “No, no. I’m fine. I just- that was pretty bad. My vision went out for a second there. That’s the first time it’s happened at school.” 

Ander had meant to be reassuring but his words have an opposite effect, and Carla looks more worried than before. “I’m gonna call Guzmán and-”

Ander is shaking his head at her. “No Carla, it’s okay.” He grins a bit, and pulls the bag strap on his shoulder higher. “If I went home every time I felt sick, I’d never be at school.”

He pushes himself away from the lockers and stands up straight.

Walking down the hall he calls, “I’m gonna tell Mr. Suarez we were late to class because of you.” 

“Like hell you are!” Carla says, rushing after him.


	2. Nadia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nadia is a queen and she takes really good notes change my mind

“Ander,” Nadia says.

He doesn’t move. He’s curled up with his head resting on his arms, covering his Biology textbook, and crumpling the paper he was half heartedly taking notes on.

“Ander, wake up.”

He goans quietly and lifts his head up, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.

Blinking a couple times, he looks around at the class, at everyone gathering their things and leaving the room.

“I slept through Bio?” He asks.

“Yeah. I was going to wake you up but you looked like you needed it.”

Nadia takes a few papers off her desk and hands them to Ander.

“These are my notes. I already took a picture of them so you can keep them.”

Omar must have told Nadia that sometimes when he looks at a screen for too long his head hurts, or maybe she looked up symptoms online, either way it doesn’t matter. It’s times like these that Ander is grateful to have met Omar, because not only is Omar amazing, but it brought him and Nadia closer together. 

“Thank you,” He says.

Nadia smiles that gorgeous smile that makes Ander understand why Guzmán is head over heels for her. 

“Anytime,” She says, and Ander can tell she means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is really short so sorry about that...
> 
> Let me know what you liked, and if you want me to write more in the future. I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Guzmán

“So what time are you gonna be there?” Guzmán asks Ander, his voice tinny over the phone.

In the background Ander can hear the distinct sounds of Super Smash Bro’s. He must have him on speaker.

“Damn,” Ander says, regret filling his voice. “I’m sorry Guzmán. I can’t come tonight.”

Ander can practically hear him frowning over the phone. He must’ve paused his game, because Ander can’t hear Link yelling anymore.

“Anderrr,” Guzmán whines, “we’ve been planning this fiesta for _weeks_ , you’ve gotta come!”

Ander fiddles with the sleeve of his sweater and contemplates if he has enough strength to climb out the window and walk to the party. He groans and flops onto his bed.

“I wish I could, but I woke up with a fever and my mom won’t let me out of the house.”

Panic seeps into Guzmán’s voice without him meaning to. “A fever? How high?” 

“It’s nothing, not that high. Trust me, I want to come, but it’s doctor’s orders.”

Guzmán sounds resigned and sighs audibly, “Fine. Well, we’ll miss you tonight. Get some rest buddy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun tonight.”

_

Ander is woken up a couple hours later by someone running their hand softly through his curls. He turns into the hand unconsciously, and snuggles closer to it. He hears someone snicker lightly, but the hand doesn’t stop brushing his hair.

“Guzmán?” Ander asks, confused when he opens his eyes. “I thought you were at the party?”

Guzmán keeps playing with his hair. He’s sitting on Ander’s bed with his back pressed to the headboard, his arm wrapped around Ander’s shoulder. “Yeah. I was, but I left early. It wasn’t the same without you.”

Ander smirks. “Aww, what a sap,” He teases, and pushes his head farther onto his friend so his head is pillowed by Guzmán’s stomach.

“Shut up.” Guzmán replies, lightly shoving Ander’s shoulder.

“Anyway, your mom told me you’re pretty sick.” He reaches out a hand and feels Ander’s forehead and then brings it down to rest on his cheek. “Hell of a fever, Ands.”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Ander says. He doesn’t get up from his position pressed up against Guzman’s stomach though.

“You’re not fine. You look like shit.”

Ander gives him a look that says, ‘I have cancer, of course I look like shit’.

Guzmán scrunches his nose at the look. “More than usual,” He amends.

“Whatever.” Ander yawns and pulls the sleeves of his sweater down so they cover his hands.

“Cold?” Guzmán asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Stay the night.” Ander says, already pulling Guzmán down into the bed with him.

Guzmán huffs but gets under the covers with him. “So demanding,” He mumbles.

“I’m sick, not deaf,” Ander says, his voice slurring with sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guzmán and Ander's friendship makes me soft so I might write another chapter about them


	4. Polo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polo is soft and awkward and if he wasn't a murderer he probably would've been my fav character

Somehow, time always seems to slow down during Spanish class. The teacher drones on about classic literature and how we must read about the past so we can make informed decisions about the future. About how thousands of years of creative genius are found in the pages of these novels. About-

Suddenly, Ander bolts out of his desk and runs out into the hallway. He sprints to the nearest washroom and just makes it before he starts throwing up.

There’s not much to throw up because his appetite lately has been practically nonexistent, and before long Ander is left dry heaving.

It’s raw and painful but not unfamiliar, which is kind of depressing when he thinks about it. 

He’s just glad he made it to the washroom in time. God, throwing up in class would've been so embarrassing. Not to mention all the pitiful looks he would get. _Oh don’t mind me, it’s just cancer boy throwing up from chemo again._

The door to the washroom creaks open and Ander scrambles to pull himself off the floor and look somewhat presentable, but thankfully, it’s just Polo.

“Ander? Everything okay?” He asks hesitantly.

“Just peachy,” Ander manages to rasp out. 

“I got your books,” Polo says, coming further into the washroom and pushing open the stall door that Ander didn’t have time to lock. “So you don’t have to go back to class.”

“Thank fuck. I still feel like I’m going to puke.”

Polo looks around a bit awkwardly, “Do you want me to leave or…” He trails off at the end, leaving room for Ander to fill in the blanks. 

He doesn’t, and instead leans over the toilet, dry heaving again. 

Polo doesn’t think and automatically starts rubbing Ander’s back, whispering sweet nothings to him. After a few more rounds of heaving, Ander finally pulls away from the toilet completely. 

He wipes his mouth on his blazer sleeve and tries to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” he pants, “that was gross. You didn’t have to stay.”

Polo rolls his eyes and goes over to the sink to wet a paper towel. He wrings it out and hands it to Ander, who uses it to wipe off his face.

“Of course I stayed. You’ve seen me way worse than this, remember the night Christian made me do shots?” 

Ander laughs at the memory. “How could I forget? You’re such a lightweight.”

Polo puts a hand on his chest and pretends to be offended. “Lightweight? I’m not a lightweight! I’m just not an alcoholic like everyone else at our school seems to be.”

Ander grins. “Fair enough.”

Polo fishes around in his pocket and pulls out a piece of gum, offering it to Ander. He takes it gratefully, shivering a bit. It’s then that Polo realizes that sitting on a cold tile floor is probably not the best for Ander, cancer wise _and_ dignity wise. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Polo says, pulling Ander up off the floor. “I wasn’t paying attention to the lesson anyway.”

“No, not home. My mom will just worry.” He takes his books off the sink counter and tries to avoid himself in the mirror, not wanting to see how pale he probably looks.

Polo shrugs and heads out the door. “Okay, my place then. I think both my moms are out, so the coast should be clear for you to come over.”

“Oh c’mon,” Ander exclaims as they make their way to Polo’s locker, “your moms love me!”


	5. Lucrecia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lu is an icon and she deserves the best

“Just do your project on Saturday, Ander. Then you can come to the party Friday,” Lucrecia suggests. 

He’s not paying attention though. He’s looking at his reflection in the small mirror in Lu’s locker. He subconsciously raises a hand to brush his head, his fingers still getting used to the lack of hair. 

“It looks good, you know.”

Ander is drawn out of his thoughts. He looks at Lu and furrows his eyebrows, “Huh?”

“Your hair. It gives off bad boy vibes which totally work for you.” 

Ander looks away, suddenly very interested in the floor. He focuses on the fraying end of one of his shoelaces. 

“I don’t like it. Every time I see it I’m just reminded that I have cancer.”

Lu glances around the hall to make sure no one is looking and then pulls Ander closer by his blazer sleeve. She pushes one of her bracelets up higher so that a small scar on her wrist is visible.

Ander takes her hand in his and lightly traces the scar. It’s small, but he can tell how deep it is, how much force was used to make it.

Lu takes a breath. “I used to hate this scar,” she says. “Every time I saw it I was reminded of how weak I was; how much I used to hate myself. I would put layer after layer of concealer on to make sure no one would see it.”

She takes off her bracelet completely and tucks it in her pocket.

“But now, I don’t mind as much. It shows how strong I am.” She smiles and takes her hand away, using it to flip her hair. “That I can go through shit and still come out the best in the class.” 

Ander looks at her with a mix of concern and respect. “Lu, I didn’t know.” 

She narrows her eyes slightly. “I didn’t tell you for sympathy, I told you for solidarity. We all have our issues, some people just have the luxury of no visible damage. You shouldn’t be ashamed of having cancer, it’s not some embarrassing secret.”

Lu takes out the books she needs and puts them in her bag. She closes her locker door and locks it, twirling the key around her finger.

“And when you beat cancer’s ass, I’m sure your curls will come back just as gorgeous as before.”

Ander smiles and grabs Lu’s wrist before she can walk away, his thumb rubbing over her scar.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling softly.

Lu smirks. “Don’t get used to it, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a minute since I updated and to be honest I was kind of bored with this story. I'm writing a lot for a another fandom but I had this idea so I decided to write a bit more. I have another chapter planned but I'm not sure when it'll come out. Thanks for sticking with me.


	6. Samuel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Samu might be sarcastic as shit, but deep down he’s a good guy.

“Ander, you’re throwing your life away.”

In hindsight, Ander isn’t sure why Samuel was the last straw. They don’t really know each other. They’re not even friends. 

Maybe it’s _because_ Ander and Samuel aren’t that close. He doesn’t feel the same guilt as when he’s around Omar or his mom. Whatever it is, something just _snaps_ , and suddenly Ander is breathing heavily, his arms swinging wildly as he talks.

“My life?” Ander cries, almost laughing. “What life? I can’t play sports anymore, I can’t go to parties, even if I wanted to I can’t focus on school, and I can barely walk to the fridge without getting tired.” 

Surely, when Samuel went on a walk, he didn’t expect to see Ander sitting on a park bench, attempting to drink away his problems. Surely, when Samuel had asked offhandedly if he was okay, he had expected a half hearted “fine,” or maybe even a smile and a “I’m good,”. Surely, he hadn’t expected Ander to laugh and say, “Does it even matter?”

Samu had stopped dead in his tracks at the answer and then eyed the empty beer bottles at Ander’s feet, and the half full one in his hand. 

So now, Ander’s on the verge of hysterics, and he knows it, but there’s no turning back. 

“I can’t even have sex with my boyfriend!” 

Samuel opens his mouth to say something, but Ander doesn’t let him.

“I can’t feel anything, Samu!” Ander screams, his voice breaking. Belatedly, Ander is glad that it’s late, because he doesn’t need some random strangers here to witness him having a breakdown. Tears begin to stream down his face and he hunches in on himself.

“I just want to feel something,” he whispers, more to himself than anything. 

Samuel comes over slowly and sits next to him on the park bench, his face serious in the moonlight. He places a gentle hand on Ander’s shoulders and Ander mentally prepares himself for the onslaught of pity coming his way. 

“You,” Samuel says softly, “Need to pull your head out of your ass.”

Ander whips his head up, his tears stopping in his moment of shock.

“Just because you have cancer,” Samu continues, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Ander’s back, “doesn’t mean you have some sort of monopoly over shitty lives. We’ve all got problems.”

Ander doesn’t know what to say. He’s still kind of shaking, and his arms feel numb, so he brings the beer bottle up to his lips just to have something to do. Samuel grabs the bottle before he can tilt any of the liquid into his mouth. 

“Stop, Ander. Just stop, okay? Listen to me for a second,” he reasons.

Ander’s past reason. He shrugs the other boy’s hand off his shoulder. “Fuck off, Samu. Give me my beer back.”

“No,” Samu replies, and promptly launches the bottle across the park, the bottle smashing on the ground and breaking, amber liquid leaking out. “You have no right to sit there and throw a fucking pity party for yourself. My girlfriend was _murdered_ , my brother had to run away because the cops still think he did it, my mother is a drug addict, and I have to keep working minimum wage jobs just to support myself when all you rich assholes live off your parents.”

Ander tilts his head. “Maybe _you're_ the one that needs the beer,” he deadpans. 

Samuel huffs in exasperation. “Ander that’s not the point and you know it. My point is you’re lucky. You have a supportive mom, and an amazing boyfriend, who by the way would do anything for you, and a lot of friends who really care.”

Ander rubs a hand over his head, and for a split second he is surprised to find that there’s no hair there. He pulls his hood up to fight off the evening chill seeping into his bones. “I know,” he mumbles. 

Samu looks at him quizzically. “You know…” he prompts.

Ander sighs. “I know how lucky I am. Omar, my friends, my mom.. they’re… I … I don’t deserve them.”

“Probably not,” Samuel concedes, and Ander finds his lips quirking up into something resembling a smile despite himself, “but you have them. And I think it’s unfair for them to sit and watch you throw away your life when clearly, for some reason, they seem to like you.”

Ander laughs softly, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down over his fingers. 

“So you need to stop drinking in parks, stop skipping treatments-

_Damn Guzmán has a big mouth_ , Ander thinks.

-and start trying to value yourself as much as everyone else does.”

Ander directs his brown gaze to Samuel’s wide dark eyes. “Samu, what if I can’t?” He looks away when the eye contact is too much, ducking his head down. “What if there’s just pre-cancer me, and post-cancer me, and I can never be that boy that everyone loved? I can never be myself again?”

Samuel tilts his head up, letting out a long breath. His eyes take on a faraway look as he studies the stars. “People change. I’m not the same person as I was three years ago. Las Encinas changed me, just like this has changed you. So maybe you’re not the same person as before. It doesn’t matter, you’re still you.”

Ander feels like he’s going to throw up, but this time he knows it’s not from the chemo. The weight of his thoughts make his stomach turn. “I guess I’m just scared that this new me, won’t be worth it.”

Samu shrugs and reaches over, carefully holding Ander’s sweater paw in his own hand. “You don’t know until you try, right?”

Ander is crying again, but this time it’s a good sort of crying. 

Samuel doesn’t say anything for a long time, and they just sit there in the dark, hands intertwined, a couple crickets humming to keep them company. After a while Ander shivers and wishes he brought a warmer jacket.

Samuel must notice because he rubs a hand over the other boy’s shoulder before standing up. “C’mon,” he says, pulling Ander by the hand, “I’ll walk you home.”

Ander lets himself be dragged up, and Samuel heads off towards the dirt path, letting go of Ander’s hand. Ander makes to follow, but veers towards the grass at the last second.

Samu turns around when he realizes the taller boy isn’t with him. “What are you doing?” he asks.

Ander is crouched on the ground, sorting something intently. “I’m picking up the glass.”

“What?”

“The glass,” Ander explains, gesturing at the pieces of the broken bottle, “I don’t wanna litter or anything.”

Samu laughs loudly, his mouth quirking up, making him look younger. “Ander, this new _you_ , you’re worried about? Don’t be. I think you’re gonna be just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back!! And it is always Ander loving hours in this house. This was a little bit darker than my normal fluff pieces but hopefully I pulled it off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebe and Ander's friendship is iconic and Rebe is honestly so funny

“Damnit!” Rebeca whines, waving the controller around as she loses again. “Go again?”

“I think I might die if I play one more round,” Ander groans.

Rebeca sighs and flicks off the television before flopping back down onto the couch. “Then what do you want to do?”

Ander shrugs. His head kinda hurts, and he’s hungry, but he knows if he eats anything now it’ll just come back up, and he’s just generally not in a great mood. “I don’t know. It’s really nice out, but I’m too tired to walk anywhere.”

Rebeca jumps off the couch, pulling Ander up with her. “That’s an easy fix,” she exclaims, “I’ll carry you!”

Ander gives her a look. “Rebe, you can’t _carry_ me around.”

Rebeca places her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows. “And why not? You’ve got a problem with a girl carrying you? Need to be a strong manly man?”

Ander snorts. Manly man? That would be a new one for sure. “You know that’s not why. It’ll just be fucking weird. Everyone will stare.”

Rebe narrows her eyes. “Ander, my mom is a drug lord, and you’re gay. They’ll stare at us anyway.”

Which, fair point. 

Ander sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle. “Fine. Let’s go.”

They go outside and are immediately hit with a warm ray of sun and clear blue skies. Rebeca turns and crouches in front of Ander. 

“Climb aboard,” she says in a silly imitation of a flight attendant. “Hands and feet in the vehicle at all times.”

Ander grumbles at the lame joke and climbs on her back, putting his pride on the back burner in favour of getting some sun so he looks less like Casper the ghost and more like an actual human. She bounces a bit, shifting him higher on her back, and grabs on to his legs. Ander never really noticed how tall she was before, but now that he’s in her strong arms, he kinda likes being up this high.

“Jesus Christ Ander, you’re so light, we need to feed you more,” Rebe teases. It’s similar to what his mom is always telling him, but somehow she makes it funny instead of overbearing and Ander huffs out a laugh.

“Maybe you just need to eat less,” he quips back. 

“Hey!” she cries, “Rude.” To prove her point she turns around a few times making Ander tilt and sway on her back. 

He laughs, carefree. “It's like a rollercoaster.”

Rebeca grins and turns faster. 

The movement quickly turns from fun to nauseating and Ander grips Rebe’s shoulder hard. “Rebe.”

“Huh?” she giggles, still turning.

“Rebe.”

His shaky voice makes her stop and she cranes her head around to see his face go pale.

Rebe stops moving immediately and stands still, not daring to move an inch. “Shit, sorry.”

Ander waits for the world to stop twisting before he replies. “It’s fine. Just maybe go slower from now on. And no swaying.”

A bit of guilt leaks into her voice, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Ander feels bad for making her worry and ruining their fun, so he tries to bring the mood back up. “Onward!” he cries, “I shall not be kept waiting!”

It works, and Rebe smiles.

They make their way through town, stopping by a small creek to watch some fish swim around. An elderly woman comes by with bread, and Ander pulls the cancer card and convinces her to lend them some bread so they can feed the fish as well. 

After the bread runs out, Rebeca carries him up a hill despite his protests- (“Rebe, this is steep, you don’t have to.” “Shut up, I’ve been boxing, this is good training.”) -and they arrive at the top, surrounded by a patch of flowers. They lie down side by side, sunbathing like lizards on a hot day.

“This is nice,” Ander sighs, playing with the warm grass at his fingertips, “Thank you.”

Rebeca turns so she’s on her side, facing Ander. “Really, Ander, I don’t mind. Anything for a friend.”

Ander smiles, and a wicked grin spreads on Rebeca’s face. 

“Even if it means carrying your skinny ass around.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you liked, and if you want me to write more in the future. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
